Highlander: The Series: A New Beginning
by Adam Tuttle
Summary: Duncan's away somewhere and a new Immortal surfaces, forcing Richie, Joe


Subject: Submission of Story  
Date: Wed, 20 Jan 1999 23:44:15 -0800  
From: "Cynergy St. Cloud"   
  
  
Name: Cynergy St. Cloud  
E-Mail: Cynergy@home.com  
Story title: 'A New Beginning'  
Rating: PG or G, depending on who's doing the rating.  
  
Duncan's away somewhere and a new Immortal surfaces, forcing Richie, Joe  
and a wary Methos to teach him the ropes. But how much tutoring does  
this new Immortal really need?  
  
------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Disclaimer Notice:  
  
I am in no way responsible for the vomiting or nausea reading this   
story may induce. I am in no way responsible for destroying any   
preconceptions of characters, real or fictional nor am I taking the   
credit for the characters and premise of this lovely show... They know   
I thought of it first and that's what counts.  
  
Further more, I disclaim anything else that may or may not get me into   
trouble with anyone's lawyers. You have been warned.  
  
This is my first story, feedback is *strongly* recommended, unless you   
want another example of this sort of butchery of your favorite   
characters.  
  
Cynergy@home.com  
  
Read on, read on...  
  
------------------------------------------------------------  
  
A New Beginning  
by Cynergy St. Cloud  
  
  
The bar was only half-full, or half-empty, depending on your outlook on   
life.   
  
'Oh Well,' thought Joe, 'its still early.' Looking over to the darkest   
corner he could make out Methos in his usual spot hunched over his mug   
of beer with a thoughtful expression on his face. As if sensing someone   
looking at him Methos looked up at Joe and grinned, raising his glass   
in a salute. Joe smiled and returned the gesture with his water bottle.   
Both returned to their thoughts, Methos staring into his drink while   
Joe scrubbed at the already sparkling countertop.   
  
A short while later Methos joined Joe at the bar and the two began   
joking around like old friends, which they were, having been friends   
for 10 years or so.  
  
  
  
"Seriously though, Adam," Joe commented with a somber expression.   
"You've got the money. Why don't you spend a little and buy yourself a   
decent wardrobe?"  
  
Methos gave a comical shocked expression and looked at himself in the   
mirror behind the bar. The man who looked back at him had remained the   
same over countless centuries and millennia. Closely cropped hair,   
smooth forehead and a distinguished nose that complimented his angular   
face. The only thing that ever really changed was his clothing,   
pretending to be a grad student required him to wear old ratty clothing   
and though in the beginning he despised it, over the last 10 years he   
had grown accustomed to it. Even if he hadn't he'd still pretend.  
  
"Are you trying to say that I don't look good enough to be near you,   
Joe?"  
  
Joe couldn't help but grin at his friend's twisted humor and with a   
shrug of his shoulders he replied, "hey, I gotta have standards. To   
keep the people coming in, you understand."  
  
Methos took a large gulp from his drink, draining the glass and sliding   
it towards his friend and letting the silence hand in the air. As he   
expected Joe got antsy and spoke first. 'This is *way* too easy,'   
Methos thought with an internal grin.  
  
"Look Adam," Joe began nervously, "I was joking, didn't think you'd   
take it so personally." Every time Joe thought he'd figured out the   
oldest immortal, something would change and he felt as if he'd just   
been introduced.   
  
Methos stared off into space for a moment before making a face akin to   
someone about to cry. 'Sucker, I got you now Joe.'   
  
"I'm just a piece of meat to you, aren't I Joe?" Methos choked out   
between sobs, "Just an attractive, lovable adorable piece of meat.   
Maybe you'd be happier if I wore a suit and drank dry martinis?"  
  
Joe stared with his mouth hanging open, not sure how to respond. Then,   
appearing to think it over Joe let a grin spread over his face. "You   
own a suit?"  
  
Both men dissolved into laughter and Joe poured his friend another   
beer.  
  
"Didn't anyone ever teach you to show a little respect for the older   
and wiser?" Methos asked sternly.  
  
"Nope, respect the feeble is what I was taught." Joe said with a grin.  
  
Methos grinned back, then, as if suddenly noticing that MacLeod wasn't   
hanging about. "Where's your charge been lately? Haven't seen him in a   
week or so."  
  
Joe paused and frowned before shrugging, "I don't know."  
  
"Well, Watcher duties have all gone to pot since my unfortunate death I   
see."  
  
Joe looked thoughtful for a moment before answering with a shrug. "When   
he gets back from where ever he went, he'll tell me what happened."  
  
"You could make your job easier if you just sat him down with a pen and   
told him to write his own Chronicle." Methos said after a moment and a   
few belts from his bottle.  
  
"Yeah Adam, your one to talk about Watcher procedures," Joe said with a   
sarcastic grin. "You spent 10 years trying to find *yourself*."  
  
"Yeah and my Chronicle will be the best written." Methos grinned.  
  
  
  
A rush of people came in and the bar quickly became quite   
crowded. 'The game must have just ended,' Joe figured. The next twenty   
minutes was a rush of activity, Joe sent his bartender Mike to clear   
tables while Joe himself took over distributing drinks. When it had   
slowed down sufficiently Joe flopped down next to Methos, who had   
retreated to a corner booth to watch the action. Joe brought with him   
two bottles of beer, one for Methos and one for himself, which he   
eagerly tore into.  
  
"God, I feel old." Joe groaned, rubbing his shoulders.  
  
Methos looked up from his beer to frown at his friend. "Joe, I'm 5000   
and *I* don't feel that old."  
  
Joe took a long drink from his bottle before answering with a grin,   
"your definitely better preserved."  
  
"A compliment Joe? You know how fragile-" Methos broke off and glanced   
around the room with narrowed eyes.  
  
Having been a Watcher for many years now Joe was used to noticing the   
tension felt when an Immortal entered another's 'range.'  
  
"What is it Lassie?" Joe cracked, "has Timmy fallen in the well again?"  
  
Methos glared at him out of the corner of his eye with a look that   
clearly showed he was not amused. Joe returned an innocent expression   
and took a casual look around for himself.  
  
"Any idea who it is?" Joe asked, still not seeing anyone familiar.  
  
"My Immortal Caller-ID seems to be broken." Methos quipped.  
  
Joe could almost feel the tension coming from his friend as he kept an   
eye on the front doors while trying to act casual. They both physically   
relaxed when Richie came through the door talking with a man beside   
him. Joe didn't recognize Richie's friend but he looked normal enough.   
He had dark hair that hung just past his strong jaw and a baggy sweater   
was visible from underneath a long dark trenchcoat. As they entered he   
leaned over and said something to Richie with a lopsided smile that   
sent the young Immortal into hysterics. Joe smiled at the scene, Richie   
had grown out of the shadow of the 'Great Duncan MacLeod of the Clan   
MacLeod' into his own person over the last couple of years and Joe   
couldn't be happier at the change. Joe had never had a son but he   
guessed that what he felt for Richie would be the same as if he was a   
blood relation. Joe's reverie was disturbed by Methos' whisper.   
"Richie's friend is pre-Immortal."   
  
Joe turned to Methos with a questioning expression on his face.  
  
Methos rolled his eyes slightly before explaining, "when he dies, he'll   
wake up. Pre meaning before, Immortal meaning cannot die. Pre-Immortal   
meaning he's at the point before the point he cannot die. Do you   
understand or shall I use smaller words?" He finished with a grin,   
realizing how stupid his explanation really sounded.  
  
Joe laughed and swatted Methos' shoulder lightly. Richie and his friend   
stopped at the bar for drinks before moving over to the two 'older'   
gentlemen.  
  
"Hey Joe, Adam," Richie nodded to his friends. "Can we join you?"  
  
Joe nodded while Methos took another drink. Richie and his friend took   
seats around the booth, Richie leaned back in his seat and rested his   
drink on his thigh. 'The picture of confidence,' Joe thought proudly.   
His friend on the other hand had leaned forward to rest his elbows on   
his knees and Joe noticed him casually and subtly check over his   
shoulder every few minutes as if expecting an attack of some sort.  
  
"Who's your friend?" Methos asked Richie, motioning with his head.  
  
Richie leaned forward and mentally cursed himself for forgetting his   
manners, 'what would Mac think?'  
  
"Sorry, this is Kyle..." Richie trailed off and looked at Kyle. "Um, I   
don't actually know your last name."  
  
Kyle smiled and took a swig of his beer which was the same brand that   
Methos habitually drank, Joe noted.  
  
"Its just Kyle actually." Kyle smiled at the blank look on Richie's   
face before explaining further. "I had a falling out with my parents so   
I'm between names at the moment." He finished with a dismissive shrug.  
  
"Okay." Richie nodded, "well, this is Joe Dawson, he's owns this   
place."  
  
Joe held his hand out and Kyle shook it firmly, firmer than Joe had   
guessed Kyle capable of due to his small frame.  
  
"Pleasure to meet you Mr. Dawson," Kyle said warmly. "Nice place you've   
got here." He finished with a wave of his hand.  
  
Joe laughed at being called Mr. but thanked Kyle for the complement.   
"Just call me Joe, everybody does."  
  
Kyle smiled and nodded before turning his gaze upon Methos, who had   
remained quiet during the exchange nursing his beer.  
  
"And this," Richie began. "Is.."  
  
"Adam Pierson," Methos interrupted. "Nice to meet you Kyle." He held   
out his hand to shake Kyle's. Kyle looked curiously at Methos' hand for   
a moment before clasping and shaking it.  
  
  
  
With introductions out of the way they all settled in for some   
serious drinking. Within a few hours everyone was *very* relaxed, even   
Methos who was usually very cautious and uptight with strangers,   
especially with strangers would could one day be out for his head.   
  
"So, how did you two meet anyway?" Methos asked.  
  
'About time,' thought Joe.  
  
"Richie came to my rescue at work today." Kyle said simply. "Got me out   
of a severe beating." Signaling Mike for another beer, he was done with   
explaining their meeting.  
  
Methos nodded at the explanation, apparently more satisfied than Joe   
who leaned forward in his seat.  
  
"What'd he do? Where do you work?" Joe asked, trying to be causal but   
coming off more nosy than anything else. Kyle paid for the drink the   
waitress, Claire, brought him. She smiled at Kyle politely but blushed   
when Methos inclined his head and smiled at her.  
  
'Every damn time I get a new waitress, *he* feels the need to break   
them in,' Joe thought glumly. 'Wonder how long she's gonna last.'   
Judging by the toothy grin that had spread across her face, 'not long,   
poor kid.'  
  
Kyle took a long drink before turning his attention back to Joe. "I   
work in a gas station downtown, had a couple of drunks decide it would   
be fun to kick my ass.' he shrugged. "Damn alcohol, its the tool of the   
Devil." He finished with a grin.  
  
Methos raised his bottle and made a toast, "to the tools of the Devil."   
He grinned at Kyle.  
  
They all shared a laugh before Richie interrupted, leaning in and   
patting Kyle on the shoulder. "He's being modest, there were five of   
them and the fight was almost over when I got there. All I did was stop   
one from taking a cheap shot, Kyle took care of the rest."  
  
For his part, Kyle simply shrugged and looked over at Claire who was   
sitting at the end of the bar smoking and watching Methos with a   
twinkle in her eye.  
  
"I think you have an admirer." Kyle said to Methos quietly.  
  
They all looked over at Claire who immediately turned back to her drink   
in embarrassment. Methos smiled slightly from behind his beer and   
shrugged. "She's a sweet girl but Joe gets mad when I date the help. He   
said he'd cut off my tab if I did."  
  
"Adam has priorities." Joe added with a grin.  
  
Kyle nodded knowingly and proposed his own toast. "To priorities and   
the strength to hold them, or not hold them as the case may be."  
  
"Here, here." Methos replied, tapping his bottle against Kyle's   
lightly.  
  
"I'll be right back," Richie said, standing using Kyle's shoulder for   
support. "Nature just called." He finished with a grin before turning   
and staggering off towards the bathroom.  
  
Kyle watched him go then leaned towards Joe and Methos. "Richie is   
pretty cool, he's kinda, um." Kyle paused, choosing his words carefully   
so as not to offend. "He's kinda touchy-feeling, huh?"  
  
Methos began laughing so hard that beer almost came out his nose.   
  
Joe watched his friend lose control and waiting for him to finish   
before answering. "Never noticed," He shrugged. "That's just how he was   
raised I guess."  
  
Kyle nodded thoughtfully. "Oh, I just figured he was gay or something."  
  
Methos, who was trying to sop up the beer he spilt with his sleeve lose   
control again and continued laughing uncontrollably.   
  
Joe grinned and stood up, "I've got to talk to Mike for a second, I'll   
send Claire over with a cloth." He grinned at the teary-eyed Methos,   
who was still barely containing his laughter. "Try not to spill any   
more beer, okay?"  
  
As Joe walked away Kyle took a quick look around the bar, as if sensing   
something.  
  
"What a waste of good beer," Methos said to no one in particular. "Even   
if its not really good beer."  
  
"So Adam, what do you do for a living, do you work here or something?"   
Kyle asked, leaning forward.  
  
Methos gave up on clearing the table of beer and moved on to emptying   
his bottle then inclined his head towards Kyle's empty drink.  
  
"Don't mind if I do, thanks." Kyle nodded, "but if you think that your   
going to get out of answering my question just by buying me a beer your   
way wrong, buck-o." He finished with a grin.  
  
Methos signaled Mike for two beers and turned back to Kyle. "Wouldn't   
dream of weaseling out of your questions," Methos said with a smile.   
"I'm an undergrad, studding ancient history mostly. "  
  
Kyle nodded and opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by   
Claire, who had arrived with fresh drinks.   
  
"Gentlemen, your refreshments have arrived." She said with a very poor   
English accent but a wonderful smile.  
  
Kyle returned with a regal salute and a laugh.   
  
Methos smiled and bowed his head softly, "thank you m'lady." He said   
tenderly.  
  
Claire's face turned bright red as she smiled.  
  
Joe watched Methos and Claire from his seat behind the bar, the   
expression on his face a mixture of anger and awe. 'He's like a little   
kid with hormones,' Joe thought to himself then shaking his head he   
pulled out his emergency stack of waitress resumes. While thumbing   
through them he entertained the idea that if he hired the most   
unappealing girl he could Methos might leave her alone to do her job.   
But he doubted it.  
  
Richie returned from the bathroom a few minutes later to find Claire   
sitting on Methos' lap sharing a beer. Kyle only shrugged a reply when   
Richie fixed him with a questioning glance. Methos and Claire were too   
caught up in whatever they were whispering about to notice Richie's   
return so he didn't both asking them what he missed, instead Richie sat   
down and continued drinking. Joe noticed Richie return and like Richie,   
he was also curious about how and when Claire had ended up in Methos'   
lap. But instead refocused his attention on the resumes, 'bastard has   
done it again. The least he could do is wait until she's done training   
for christsakes, its only her second night.' Joe thought with an angry   
frown.  
  
Kyle and Richie sat and watched Methos twirl Claire around his   
little finger, seemingly without effort. Richie stared in bewilderment,   
'geeze, and I thought Mac was good with women.'  
  
"Where is Mac anyway?" Richie asked aloud, realizing he hadn't seen his   
friend and mentor for at least a week.  
  
"Haven't a clue.. Sure he's fine.. Wouldn't worry." Methos mumbled   
between kisses. Kyle watched with an amused look on his face as Claire   
forcibly turned Methos back to kiss her. Richie nodded and rolled his   
eyes before moving over to Joe to ask if *he* knew where MacLeod went,   
'He is Mac's Watcher, after all.' Richie respected Mac's independence   
but it was still unusual for of him to disappear without telling   
anyone. 'That's more Methos' style than Mac's,' Richie thought glumly,   
hoping his friend wasn't in some sort of danger.  
  
Kyle stayed in his seat watching Methos and Claire with one eye   
and the rest of the room with the other. Then he got one of his   
feelings. It wasn't something Kyle could explain to anyone but for him   
it was like someone whispering in his ear, 'get ready.' Taking a   
discrete look around the bar Kyle noted the possible exits and   
entrances but failed to see anything amiss no matter how hard he   
looked. But if there was one thing he had learned during his twenty-  
four years it was to never doubt his instincts.  
  
"Adam," Kyle whispered. "Hey, Adam. There's going to be trouble, get   
yourselves out of the way, okay? Call the police or something."  
  
Methos pulled himself out of his embrace with Claire and looked around   
the crowded room with practiced eyes. 'Kids,' he thought, seeing   
nothing. Kyle caught Methos' eyes with a look that left little doubt in   
the oldest Immortal's mind that he truly believed what he was saying so   
he scooted Claire off his lap and led her over to Joe and Richie who   
were standing at the bar talking.  
  
"Kyle says there's going to be trouble," Methos said casually. "I   
thought he was kidding but it looks like he's quite serious about it. I   
think it would be best if you called the 'boys in blue,' Joe." Methos   
voice was tinged with disappointment as he realized the unhappy turn   
his evening was taking.  
  
Joe nodded and reached for the phone, then stopped mid-dial.  
  
"Where'd Kyle go anyway?"   
  
They all turned and saw that their table was vacant.  
  
  
  
Someone screamed as three armed men pushed through the front doors. All   
three men were dressed from head to toe in black clothing and wearing   
black skimasks.  
  
'How fashion conscious,' Methos' thought with an internal smile. 'I   
wonder how Kyle knew.'  
  
"All right, nobody move and no one has to leave on a stretcher." One   
of the men yelled over the cries of the bar patrons.  
  
The man in the center stood just over six feet and carried a sawed-off   
shotgun. The man on his left was brandishing a metal baseball bat and   
the other masked man carried only a black totebag.  
  
"Everyone put your valuables into the bag my colleagues are bringing   
around," yelled the man in the center as he stepped forward. "Oh, and   
just in case any of you want to play hero."  
  
Leveling the shotgun at a frightened man in a suit the robber pulled   
the trigger and sent the businessman backwards over a table and onto   
the floor to lie in a growing puddle of blood.  
  
"Jesus Christ," Claire moaned, holding a trembling hand over her mouth.  
  
Methos pulled her into his chest and watched glassy eyed as the robbers   
circulated the room collecting watches, jewelry and whatever else they   
could get their hands on.   
  
'Some things never change,' Methos thought glumly. 'Even after 5000   
years, bloody savages.'  
  
Richie was fuming, 'how could these guys come in here and kill someone   
just for a few dollars?' His thoughts drifted back to Tessa, the woman   
MacLeod had loved and the closest thing to a mother Richie has ever   
known. She had been murdered for little more than the earrings she was   
wearing.   
  
Joe must have been thinking the same thing because he put a reassuring,   
or restraining hand on Richie's shoulder.  
  
They all realized that there was nothing they could do. They were too   
far away so any attempt to get close enough to do anything would result   
in their being noticed and everyone in the room now knew the man with   
the shotgun had no problems using it on a moving target. A hole in an   
Immortal's chest wouldn't do any permanent damage but getting up after   
something like that would definitely not be easy to explain.  
  
Methos was the first to notice a familiar form moving discretely around   
the robbers.  
  
"Claire, Joe, get down. Now." Methos said forcibly, pushing Claire   
behind the bar.  
  
"What the hell is that guy doing?" Joe mumbled as he too saw the form   
moving through the trembling crowd.  
  
"Who is it?" Richie asked, straining to see past the crowd.  
  
"Who do you think?" Methos replied sarcastically as the man stepped up   
behind the leader.  
  
"Kyle? Oh my god, he's gonna get himself killed!" Richie began to surge   
forward, fists raised. Methos smoothly blocked Richie's past, putting   
his hands on the young Immortal's shoulders.  
  
"And what if he does?" He said reassuringly, "we both know it won't be   
permanent."  
  
  
  
Kyle had slid from his seat only moments before the robbers'   
entrance, mentally sizing up his opponents he decided a frontal   
approach was out of the question. 'That gun is gonna hurt,' he thought   
to himself as he maneuvered through the crowd, making sure he avoided   
the robbers' sight. Stopped only a few feet away, Kyle paused and took   
several deep breaths to prepare himself. 'Only a few more feet, go for   
the gun first. Remove the threat,' he told himself but found his feet   
rooted to the floor.   
  
'What's the matter?' Kyle scolded himself, 'you wanna live forever?'  
  
Stepping up behind the leader he let his mind go, 'no thought, only   
reaction.' His thoughts turned briefly back to his old martial arts   
teacher.  
  
  
  
-New York - 10 years previous  
  
  
  
Kyle stood motionless in the center of the sparing mat with a   
blindfold wound tightly around his eyes.  
  
He knew several other students were standing around the edges of the   
mat ready to attack on the Master's command. Kyle could hear their   
breathing and used the knowledge to pinpoint where they stood,   
altogether there were nine other people in the room, none closer than   
10 feet.   
  
'Shouldn't be a problem,' he thought with a mental grin.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Excellent Kyle, you prepare yourself well." The Master's voice came   
from over his shoulder, no more than a foot away. A gasp of surprise   
escaped Kyle's lips and the Master responded with a quick swing of his   
cane which Kyle narrowly avoided.  
  
"You still rely on your physical senses too much. Use your head, it   
will show you the way. No thought, only reaction."  
  
Kyle nodded in the direction the Master's voice had come from.  
  
"Attack!" This time his Master's voice came from behind and farther   
away.  
  
'How does he do that?'  
  
There was no time to wonder as the students rushed forward, eager to be   
the one to injure the Master's star pupil. Kyle sensed them coming and   
mentally steeled himself for his most difficult fight to date.   
  
Two minutes later it ended with Kyle standing in the center of a rough   
circle of groaning bodies, with only a shallow cut on his chin to show   
from the fight.  
  
"Excellent, you learn quickly, Kyle." Said the Master, his voice filled   
with pride. Kyle smiled lightly from underneath the blindfold.  
  
  
  
Kyle left the dojo six years later, satisfied he had learnt all   
he could from the Master. They stood on the steps leading down to the   
street, Kyle faced the man who had begun his training and given him a   
home for the first time in his life.  
  
"I can't begin to express how much you have helped me, Master." Kyle   
said, wiping a tear from his eye.  
  
His former Master stood in silence for a moment, smiling up at the sun.  
  
"I have felt the same way, Kyle. You have taught me as much as I have   
you. But please, no more Master, we're equals now. Call me Thialus." He   
held his hand out and Kyle took it willingly. "Remember what I taught   
you, Kyle, if you ever need me for any reason you know where to find   
me."  
  
"I'll remember Mas-" Kyle broke off, not used to being on a first name   
basis with his Master. "Thailus."  
  
They embraced and Kyle pulled his duffelbag onto his shoulder and set   
out into the world.  
  
  
  
- Present Day -  
  
  
  
The leader grunted in surprise when Kyle 'accidentally' bumped   
him, his turned shouting obscenities at the drunk kid staggering before   
him.  
  
Kyle used his best innocent expression and held his hands in front of   
himself, staring wild-eyed at the man with the gun.  
  
"Woah, sorry dude, don't wanna get into nothing I just slipped." Kyle   
slurred his speech in an attempt to look less threatening.  
  
The robber twisted his body and raised the gun, presumably to butt Kyle   
in the head but the impact never came. Stepping into the robber Kyle   
caught the man's elbow and pushed up, throwing him off balance just   
enough to allow Kyle to grasp the man's forearm and sharply twist   
downward bringing the shotgun down to hand between their legs.   
Reversing the hold and stepping backward to armslength, Kyle was able   
to swing the muzzle of the gun towards the robber through the man's   
outstretched arms and up to rest under the masked man's neck. Grinning   
slightly Kyle pulled tight against the robber and twisted himself   
around, using the gun against the man's throat and jawbone to flip him   
over Kyle's shoulder, landing at Kyle's feet with the shotgun still   
pressed against his throat.  
  
"Drop to the floor or your 'colleague' dies!" Kyle yelled at the other   
two robbers who stood frozen, trying to figure out the moment they had   
lost control of the situation.  
  
The bar was silent, save for a few stray sobs from the frightened   
crown.   
  
'This is gonna kill my business for sure,' Joe mused grimly. 'Hope Kyle   
knows what he's doing.'  
  
Out of the corner of his eye Joe could see Methos watching the fight   
with a slight smile on his face.   
  
'He's enjoying the damn show,' Joe thought angrily.  
  
The smile on Methos' normally neutral face was closer to pride   
than enjoyment, he had noticed Joe sneak a peek at him a moment and ago   
and flash a disapproving face before turning back to see what was   
happening. Joe knew about his past as a horseman and for the most part   
he knew how much Methos had changed since then but there were still   
moments when they doubted his intentions. 'Rightly so I guess. Hell,   
there's times when *I* doubt my intentions.'  
  
  
  
The two remaining robbers exchanged looks before the man with the   
bag threw it to the side and crossed his arms over his chest while the   
other man, the one with the baseball bat, began circling around to   
Kyle's rear, waving the bat menacingly.  
  
"Go ahead, blow his friggin' head off." The unarmed man growled.  
  
"Ya know what?" The other man said in a mocking voice, "I just don't   
think the little crapper is gonna do it."  
  
Kyle grinned evilly and looked down at the robber pinned under him.  
  
"Do you wanna know what? I bet that guy you killed didn't think you'd   
kill him, but he was wrong." Kyle spoke through clenched teeth, just   
loud enough so the other two robbers could hear. "You wanna know   
something else? Your friends are wrong too."  
  
His words had the desired effect, causing the robbers to pause for a   
moment which was all the time Kyle needed to react. Clubbing the downed   
man with the gun Kyle spun to his feet, releasing the ammunition as he   
turned before throwing the empty weapon directly at the unarmed   
robber's head and being rewarded with a sickening crack and a sharp cry   
from the man before he fell limply to the ground.   
  
Kyle noticed Richie pushing his way through the crown yelling   
something, 'walk the blinds, you?' Kyle tried reading Richie's lips, 'I   
never was very good at that. Oh, watch behind you, yeah that makes more   
sense.'  
  
Kyle heard the robber coming up fast behind him, rolling to his   
right Kyle narrowly missed being flattened by the metal bat. Coming to   
his feet Kyle stood with his arms loosely at his sides and head down.  
  
"Now that wasn't very fair, attacking me from behind like that." Kyle   
said menacingly, looking up slightly.   
  
The robber hefted the bad and came forward heavily, Kyle only smiled   
and reached into his coat.  
  
From across the room Methos watched the action with growing   
respect and apprehension for Kyle's skills and when he saw Kyle reach   
into his long coat Methos instinctively tightened his embrace on   
Claire, 'if he pulls a sword, I'm going home.'  
  
The robber was only a foot away when he began his swing, Kyle   
sidestepped and easily avoided getting hit. Pulling his hand out of his   
coat he held an eight inch black metal cylinder.   
  
"Let's even this up a bit, shall we?" With a flick of his wrist the   
cylinder extended itself twice over, leaving Kyle holding a twenty-four   
inch rod in his hand. The robber paused, even with his face covered   
Kyle could easily imagine the look of surprise he must be wearing. They   
squared off, both ready but neither willing to attack first.  
  
'Good, he's scared,' thought Kyle, 'scared people make mistakes.'  
  
Richie pushed his way through the frozen crowd, trying to get   
closer though not sure what he could do when he got there. Kyle   
appeared to be handling the situation well enough, 'probably better   
than I could.'   
  
If Kyle saw his friend arrive he showed no sign, all his attention was   
focused on the masked man before him. The sound of distant sirens   
signaled the imminate arrival of the police yet neither Kyle nor the   
robber would make the first attack. Richie could see the robber shaking   
slightly and breathing heavily, a sure sign of panic setting in. He   
could only hope Kyle knew what panicked people were capable of.  
  
The sirens became louder and Kyle figured they were no more than   
a block or two away now, the robber seemed to be waiting for him to   
move first, so he did. Sliding his left foot forward Kyle turned   
sideways to his opponent and raised his 'sword' to chest height, and   
waited.  
  
He didn't have to wait longer than a heartbeat, with a yell the robber   
dived forward, swinging the bat at Kyle's head. Bringing up his weapon,   
Kyle deflected the blow and used the robbers' own momentum to throw him   
off balance, planting a sharp kick in the robber's back and bringing   
him to his knees. In a last futile attempt the robber tried to swing at   
Kyle's knees but was denied again by Kyle's quick reflexes, which not   
only blocked the blow but disarmed the man as well.  
  
Quickly leaning over until his face was only inches from the robbers   
ear he whispered something only the robber could hear, then delivered a   
hard knee to the back of the robber's head, leaving the man laying   
motionless on the ground. Then after folding his weapon and stowing it   
in his coat Kyle let his gaze linger on the body of the dead man in the   
corner. Without another word he turned and quickly ducked out into the   
night, leaving everyone in the bar staring silently after him.  
  
Methos was the first to recover and speak. "All in all, that's a   
creative way to get out of paying the bill." He joked.  
  
Joe turned his head stiffly to glare at the oldest immortal. "You know   
what? For a quiet guy you sure don't know when to shut-up."  
  
  
  
Three long hours later the police finished with their questions   
and closed the investigation for the night. All three robbers were   
hospitalized with non-life threatening injuries, mostly concussions and   
a few broken bones. The police had arrived no more than ten or twenty   
seconds after Kyle had left, yet there was no trace he was ever there.   
From talking to the police Joe was able to gather that while witnesses   
remembered someone fighting the robbers, no one was able to accurately   
describe him. The police chalked it up to panic and nothing more.  
  
Joe, Methos and Richie sat around a table taking shots of vodka.  
  
"What I don't understand is, how could Kyle not have run into the   
police when he left?" Joe mused, pouring himself another shot.  
  
Methos took a shot and chased it with a swig of beer while Richie sat   
quietly, balancing his empty shot glass on his finger.  
  
"That's all you don't understand? I'm confused as hell!" Richie asked,   
"how did he know they were coming? Where did he learn how to fight like   
that? How come he was drunk one minute and sober the next? Why did he   
leave before the police got here? How did he avoid the police?"   
Slamming his glass down on the table the young man stood and began   
pacing around.  
  
Methos sat looking at the chalk outline on the floor, tracing its lines   
with his mind. Then a thought occurred to him, it was unusual but   
certainly not the first time such a thing had happened. The thought   
itself, not the act of having the thought..  
  
"Has anyone else noticed that Kyle acts like an immortal? He could   
obviously handle a sword well enough, he avoids attention, doesn't talk   
about his past much..." Methos trailed off.   
  
Joe snapped his fingers, also catching on. "Richie, has he ever   
mentioned where he used to live? Who taught him? Anything like that?"   
He asked eagerly.  
  
Richie stopped pacing and thought about it for a minute before frowning   
and shaking his head in a negative response. "No, I asked him if he was   
from around here and he just shrugged and said 'pretty much.' That was   
it, he didn't talk about himself. Actually, I thought it was kind of   
annoying, like trying to have a conversation with Methos." Richie   
shrugged, sitting down again.  
  
Methos grinned a bit but didn't answer.  
  
  
  
Joe leaned back in this chair, a sour expression on his face.  
  
"So not only am I left with a trashed bar, but also no answers. Doesn't   
seem fair somehow." He grunted.  
  
Methos and Richie both straightened up in their seats, looking towards   
the door and each other, to confirm that they both felt an immortal   
presence approaching.  
  
"MacLeod?" Richie asked, inclining his head towards Methos.  
  
Cocking his head quizzically, Methos' eyes seemed to glaze over for a   
moment before glancing over at Joe.  
  
"I think," Methos began, "that your answers have arrived."  
  
On Joe's nod, Richie unlocked the front doors and went outside to look   
for Kyle.  
  
"Sorry about the mess, Joe." Kyle said, from behind Methos and Joe.  
  
Methos practically jumped out of his skin in surprise.  
  
'How does someone sneak up on a 5000 year old man?' Joe wondered in   
amusement, 'just another question left unanswered.'   
  
Joe pushed another chair back from the table for the newcomer to sit   
but Kyle ignored the gesture and walked across the room to stand over   
the chalk outline of the dead man, standing in silence.  
  
"What was his name?" Kyle almost whispered.  
  
Methos leaned against the wall beside him, arms crossed lightly over   
his chest. "Is that really important? Its only a name, the man is   
gone."  
  
Kyle looked up into Methos' eyes, they held the stare for what seemed   
like an eternity to Joe.  
  
"Its not just a name to the people that are left behind and you know   
it, Adam."  
  
Methos held Kyle's gaze and nodded solemnly.   
  
"His death is still not your fault, your doing him a great honor just   
by living and remembering." Joe added from where he sat, a concerned   
expression on his face.  
  
"Live Brother, grow stronger, fight another day." Methos said quietly,   
putting his hand on Kyle's shoulder.  
  
"Your not the first to say those words to me, it didn't comfort me then   
and its not doing it now." Kyle replied.   
  
Methos shrugged slightly, unfazed.  
  
"But thanks anyway. Now, I have some catching up to do." Kyle said   
lightly, motioning towards the table.   
  
"I can't see him, Meth-" Richie stammered when he came inside to see   
Kyle sitting at the table. "Adam, I mean... Uh.. Your cab isn't here."   
He finished shakily.  
  
Kyle didn't seem to notice and so they all sat around the table while   
Joe poured shots for each of them.  
  
"I'm curious, how did you get in, Kyle?" Joe asked casually as he   
poured.  
  
"Back door," Kyle replied simply.   
  
Joe raised an eyebrow at Methos before continuing his questions.  
  
"The backdoor was locked." The Watcher said, putting down the bottle.  
  
"It still is." Kyle looked up and smiled innocently.  
  
'Just like Amanda,' Joe thought with a mental grin.  
  
  
  
They drank in silence, no one wanted to be the first to ask any   
questions that may cause Kyle to disappear again.  
  
"All right," Kyle said, downing his sixth shot in five minutes. "I'm   
feeling better now. So Joe, sorry about the mess earlier."  
  
"Don't worry about it," Joe smiled as he poured another round of   
drinks. "This place has looked worse."  
  
"I can personally vouch for that." Methos replied, holding up his hand.  
  
Joe swatted Methos lightly on the arm.  
  
"You be quiet," Joe laughed.  
  
"So, how did you learn to fight like that?" Richie asked, resting his   
elbows on the table and locking eyes with Kyle.  
  
"Around, I guess. I pick stuff up pretty easily I guess. I had a   
teacher once, but that was years ago." Kyle shrugged.  
  
Joe leaned back in his chair, carefully watching Kyle and going over   
everything he knew about the young man, which wasn't much.  
  
"What was his name?" Methos asked, casually peeling the label off his   
beer.  
  
"It was Thailus, weird name, huh?" Apparently not noticing the look on   
Methos' face, Kyle poured himself another shot and drank it down.  
  
Joe and Richie however did notice Methos' stunned/bemused expression   
before it faded away to the neutral one more typical of the old man.   
Exchanging a curious look with Richie, Joe leaned towards Methos.  
  
"You know him?" He whispered, "Immortal?"  
  
Methos blinked and turned to face Joe. "Met him once, *long* time ago.   
While I was still with the horsemen, I saw him fight. He beat Kronos,   
but spared him." Methos whispered back.  
  
Joe nodded thoughtfully, 'this is getting more interesting by the   
minute.'  
  
"And he trained Kyle, knowing that he was going to be Immortal. I don't   
think this has ever happened before, has it?" Joe whispered.  
  
"Not sure, usually the teacher stays until the student actually becomes   
Immortal to explain the rules and whatnot." Methos shrugged.  
  
"What are you two whispering about over there? Not me I hope." Kyle   
interrupted with a lopsided grin.  
  
"Not at all," Joe and Methos replied in unison.  
  
"Well all right then," Kyle grinned then snapped his fingers. "Oh hell,   
I forgot to pay my tab earlier, how much do I owe, Joe?"  
  
"Don't worry about it, Adam covered it for you." Joe grinned.  
  
"Well, thank you Mr. Monopoly." Kyle laughed at Methos.  
  
Methos grinned and shrugged his shoulders in a 'whatever' gesture.  
  
Throwing back a shot, Kyle checked his watch to find it was pulling up   
on 4am.  
  
"Well boys, sorry to drink and run but I've got to work in the morning   
so I'd best get going."  
  
"Do you want a ride?" Methos asked, standing and pulling on his   
trenchcoat.  
  
"Naw, don't worry about it." Kyle shook his head, "I've gotta walk a   
bit to clear my head or I'll be grumpy in the morning. Are you sure   
you're okay to drive, Adam?"  
  
With a grin Methos held his arms out at his sides and alternated   
touching his nose with his eyes closed, first with one hand and then   
the other.  
  
"I'm good." He laughed, "I'll be fine."  
  
"I don't think that should count," Joe laughed. "His nose is too easy a   
target."  
  
Methos fixed Joe with a dirty look before nodding good-bye to Richie.  
  
"Night guys, sorry again about earlier." Kyle said, backing towards the   
door.  
  
"I told you, don't worry about it." Joe waved Kyle's concerns off, "it   
happens."  
  
"See ya Kyle, I'll stop by the store in the morning to see you." Richie   
said, standing behind Joe's chair.  
  
Methos and Kyle stepped out into the cool night air, Kyle swore   
softly and pulled his coat tighter around himself.  
  
"Last chance for a ride." Methos said, buttoning up his own coat.  
  
"No problem, but I thought Richie said you were waiting for a cab."   
Kyle said, squinting against the rising wind.  
  
"Oh, I don't recall," Methos shrugged.  
  
"Yes you do, he came back inside and called you Meth, or something.   
Then he said that he couldn't find me. When he saw me he said you were   
waiting for a cab and called you Adam." Kyle smiled over at Methos.  
  
"Oh, that, well actually-" Kyle interrupted Methos with a dismissive   
wave of his hand.  
  
"Don't worry about it, I don't talk that much about myself either. God   
forbid I become a hypocrite." Kyle grinned.  
  
Methos smiled slightly, 'I like this kid,' he thought to himself.  
  
"Have a good night, Adam." Kyle said then turned and walked off into   
the night, leaving Methos shivering in the cold wind.  
  
  
  
Two nights passed with no word from Kyle, Richie had gone to   
Kyle's workplace to try and find him but was told that Kyle hadn't   
shown up for work and no one could find him.  
  
Joe tried to find out where Kyle lived but it turned out that the   
social security number he had given at work was bogus and lead no   
where. Even Methos had tried to help, going on patrol in his rented   
Volvo.  
  
But after two days of vigorous searching they had all but lost   
hope.  
  
"I guess he's gone." Richie had said earlier while sitting in the bar   
with Joe. "Too bad, he was a nice guy."  
  
Joe had shrugged, "maybe he'll be back someday."  
  
"Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I've got some paperwork to do at the dojo, I'll   
talk to you later Joe. Call if you hear something?" Richie said,   
pulling on his jean jacket.  
  
"I will." Joe nodded, "your watching the dojo while Mac's away huh?"   
Where *is* he anyway?"  
  
"You're the Watcher, don't ask me."  
  
  
  
An hour later Methos strolled into the near deserted bar. Having   
taken his usual seat he signaled Mike for the traditional beer. A   
moment later he was joined by Joe, who brought a beer for each of them.  
  
"No luck huh?" Joe asked, referring to Methos' patrols.  
  
"Not as such, though I did run into another less friendly Immortal."   
Methos said, rubbing his neck.  
  
"How'd it go?" Joe asked, casually checking his friend for bloodstains   
or signs of a fight.  
  
Taking a long drink from his beer, Methos considered his answer.  
  
"My Volvo is a write-off." He said simply.  
  
"You ran him down? Not very sporting of you, old man."  
  
"It was more a case of backing up over him a few times." Methos replied   
matter-of-factly.  
  
"So he'll be coming for you then? You know him?" Joe asked, curious.  
  
"Yes and no." Methos replied, looking around the bar. "Little quiet in   
here tonight, post-murder jitters?"  
  
"Apparently," Joe shrugged.   
  
Nodding, Methos took a drink and leaned back in his chair.  
  
"So I did a little check on Thailus. He was old, definitely talented   
and a skilled fighter. There are only two cases where he avoided a   
fight and the Watcher database has him down for over three hundred   
heads over his 3200 years. He was one of the good guys though, been   
training other Immortals his whole life." Joe said quietly, as if   
anyone listening in would believe a word of what he was saying.  
  
Methos frowned at his friend, "was?"  
  
"He got in a fight he should have run from, last week. His head was   
taken by someone named Nathan Mallory, one of his former students. Now   
it looks like Nathan is killing off all Thailus' students and every   
other Immortal he can get his hands on."  
  
Methos nodded, "it happens. He's coming after Kyle, you think?"  
  
"He got into town three days ago, this guy is really bad. There isn't a   
lot of info on him, he's good at losing his Watchers, that's plural, he   
has two. We do know he uses mortals to distract and injure his target,   
then comes in for the killing blow." Joe said seriously. "If he is here   
for Kyle we have a problem."  
  
"So that incident the other night, think that was meant for Kyle?"   
Methos asked, now leaning forward in his chair.   
  
Joe shrugged his shoulders and leaned his elbow on the armrest of the   
chair.  
  
"I don't know, I want to put a Watcher on Kyle but I can't get approval   
until he actually becomes Immortal."  
  
"Damn rules," Methos laughed mirthlessly.  
  
"Your getting pretty attached to Kyle, aren't you?" Joe asked.  
  
"He's a good kid, reminds me of me." Methos shrugged.  
  
"Scary thought, old man."  
  
"Expecting anyone, Joe? MacLeod, Richie?" Methos asked, looking towards   
the entrance with narrowed eyes.  
  
"Nope, Richie is at the dojo and Mac is," Joe paused, "wherever Mac   
is."  
  
"Well, think I'll be off then." Methos said, standing quickly.  
  
"It may be Kyle, wait around and see."  
  
"Fine, but if turns out to be the gentlemen I had a 'run-in' with   
earlier, you owe me several beer." Methos said, still standing.  
  
A moment later a familiar form slid quietly through the front doors.   
  
Kyle looked cold and dirty to Joe, 'maybe even skinner.'  
  
To Methos, Kyle looked almost scared as he swept his glance around the   
room looking for the cause of the 'buzz' Methos knew he must be   
feeling.  
  
"Kyle," Methos called, "over here."   
  
Kyle turned at the calling and focused his attention on Methos, not   
moving, only watching cautiously.  
  
'He must be very confused, I know I was,' thought Methos.  
  
Moving over to the table, Kyle accepted the chair presented to him,   
sitting with a tired sigh.  
  
Methos signaled for another beer and the three sat in silence until it   
arrived.  
  
"So, Adam, are you planning on pulling a sword or a gun or anything?"   
Kyle asked suspiciously.  
  
"No, I'm not." Methos replied coldly.  
  
"Sorry, I'm- I'm having a bad day." Kyle said quietly, rubbing his   
bloodshot eyes with his palms.  
  
"What happened? After than night you dropped off the face the Earth."   
Joe asked, openly curious.  
  
"Not really much to say, I was heading home that night when a black van   
pulls up beside me and these guys hop out. I kept walking, hoping   
they'd leave me alone but one guy calls my name so I turn around and he   
pulls out a sword and goes, 'I am Nathan something, and I'm here for   
your head.' I think I must have made some kind of comment about the   
quality of his pick-up lines because one of the other guys pulls a gun   
and shoots me. I was almost at the North bridge when they jumped me so   
I took off towards it. I think I got plugged a couple more times before   
I jumped off the bridge into the water. When I hit I guess I blacked   
out, woke up in the morning downstream. There were no bullet holes in   
me but there were some in my coat. That's about it, that's why I'm   
here, I guess I figured you could tell me what's going on."  
  
"Well, your right about that, we do know what you are, I'm like you   
also." Methos whispered, just in case someone was listening.  
  
Turning to Joe, Kyle asked, "what about you? What about Richie?"  
  
"Well, I'm not Immortal. I'm a Watcher, we're a group of people that,   
uh, watch Immortals. We record their lives and such, we don't get   
involved though."  
  
A muffled laugh burst from Methos, interrupting Joe's speech.  
  
"Shut up old man. Okay, most of the Watchers don't get involved." Joe   
finished.  
  
"Just the ones that decide Immortals are evil and must be destroyed, or   
the ones that befriend Immortals, other than that, no interference."   
Methos laughed.  
  
Joe twisted in his seat to glare at Methos.  
  
"And of course you forgot to mention Immortals who pretend to be   
mortal, infiltrate the Watchers and spend ten years heading up the   
project to find themselves."  
  
"Um, guys, having a crisis here, do you mind?" Kyle asked, trying not   
to grin at the playful verbal sparing the two friends were sharing.  
  
"So, Joe, are you Adam's Watcher?" Kyle asked.   
  
Joe grinned over at Methos and raised his eyebrow slightly.  
  
"No, Adam doesn't have a watcher, he's something of a mystery to us.   
I'm Duncan MacLeod's Watcher, actually."  
  
"Oh yeah, Richie mentioned him a few hundred times," Kyle laughed.   
"Sounds like a nice guy though, where is he?"   
  
Joe and Methos shrugged in unison.  
  
"So your not one of those Watchers who like, watches, huh?" Kyle   
grinned.  
  
"You and Adam are never going to leave me alone about this are you?"   
Joe groaned, shaking his head.  
  
Laughing, Kyle replied. "This is the first time I've ever said   
anything."  
  
The three men dissolved into laughter, anyone watching would have   
assumed a father and his two boys were sharing a light hearted moment,   
the truth would have been far more interesting and difficult to   
believe.  
  
"So, if I'm Immortal, what's the deal with the swords? Its kind of   
futile isn't it?" Kyle asked when their laughter died down.  
  
Methos shook his head, "the only way you can die is if your head leaves   
your shoulders, all Immortals carry swords, some for protection, some   
because they like killing."  
  
"But why? So yay, I killed an old guy. Woo-hoo, all his knowledge and   
experience is gone forever. Seems kind of pointless to me, I mean what   
happens when there's only one of us left?" Kyle asked in confusion.  
  
"Your asking all the right questions, Kyle. Okay, this is how it works   
and pardon me if I mess the details up, its been a while since I've   
explained this. If one Immortal beheads another, the victor takes the   
losers Quickening, which basically is his power, life energy, chi or   
whatever you want to call it. Rumor has it that the last remaining   
Immortal will have the power to control the world, for whatever that's   
worth." Methos finished, looking over at Joe, "did I forget anything?"  
  
"The rules, you can't fight on holy ground, all fights are one on one,   
using guns is frowned upon for obvious reasons. And uh, in the end   
there can be only one." Joe frowned, "I don't say that as well as   
MacLeod, do I?"  
  
"As long as you know you said it and not me." Methos quipped.  
  
"Well at least I don't use 'Live brother, grow stronger, fight another   
day' like some kind of trademark." Joe grinned.  
  
"Okay children, that's enough." Kyle broke in, "I have one more   
question."  
  
"Children?" Methos demanded in mock indignation, "listen boy, I'm more   
than old enough to be your grandfather a thousand times over."  
  
"Okay, sorry." Kyle paused, "pops." Grinning innocently he took a   
drink.  
  
Methos sat in stunned silence while Joe attempted to stifle a laugh,   
resulting in a coughing fit.  
  
"Problem Joe?" Methos asked, a slight grin spreading across his face.  
  
"Nope, not at all." Joe said between coughs, "um, what was your other   
question Kyle?"  
  
"Thailus, he's Immortal too, right?" Kyle asked.  
  
"Yes, he is." Methos said quickly, giving Joe a stern sideglance that   
clearly said, 'he's dealing with enough right now, save it for later.'  
  
"Yeah, that makes sense, he knew I would be Immortal someday. Can we   
all do that?" Kyle asked.  
  
Methos nodded slightly. "Its usually the older Immortals that can sense   
a pre-Immortal. But everyone like us can sense another of our kind."  
  
"So you mean I'm gonna feel *that* every time I get close to an   
Immortal?" Kyle asked, jerking a thumb at the door behind him.  
  
"Yeah, though it generally tones down a bit after the first couple of   
times. As I recall, it can seem pretty chaotic at first, you'll get   
used to it." Methos nodded.  
  
"Wait a minute, you said you couldn't remember that far back." Joe   
accused, glaring at Methos.  
  
"Oh that, well I can't remember anything concrete, mostly just   
feelings." Methos shrugged.  
  
"If you don't mind me asking, how old are you, Adam?" Kyle asked,   
leaning forward and staring unblinking at Methos.  
  
Methos squirmed slightly in his seat under the strong gaze of Kyle.  
  
"Didn't Thailus teach you any manners, kid?" Methos asked, now firmly   
returning Kyle's gaze.  
  
"Nope, I was sick that day." Kyle grinned, not breaking the stare.  
  
"Well, let me put it this way then. I met Thailus about three or four   
thousand years ago." Methos said quietly and casually.  
  
Kyle blinked and leaned back in his chair. "Wow," he said quietly.   
"Long time. I don't envy you, Pops."  
  
"You and me both, Kid, you and me both." Methos said even quieter.  
  
The two Immortals sat in silence, each thinking their own thoughts   
until Joe spoke, pulling them back to the present.  
  
"We still have Nathan Mallory to deal with, he'll be coming. Kyle will   
need a sword and training in how to use it. Damnit, I wish I knew where   
MacLeod went, training is more his field of expertise."  
  
"Oh, actually both points are pretty well taken care of. Thailus gave   
me extensive sword training, though its been a while since I've had to   
use it. I'm probably a little rusty." Kyle spoke up, still watching   
Methos out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"Okay, but what about the sword?" Joe asked.  
  
"Well, when I left Thailus' tutelage he gave me a sealed case, he said   
not to open it until I, how did he put it, 'opened my eyes for the   
first time in a new world.'" Kyle paused, remembering. "Something like   
that anyway. When I got home the day after that Nathan guy killed me I   
remembered about the case. I've been carrying the thing around for the   
last four years wondering what it was." Kyle said, reaching inside his   
coat.  
  
Joe leaned forward over the table, eager to see what Thailus had given   
Kyle. Methos took a casual look around the bar, watching for anyone who   
may be paying more attention than necessary. Satisfied, he refocused   
his attention on the object Kyle had pulled from a pocket in the inner   
lining of his coat. It was allot like the baton he had used against the   
robbers, Joe noticed, except this one was softly rectangular and had   
about six inches of silver blade sticking out of one end. Joe whistled   
at the sight of the black ornate handle with faint hieroglyphs etched   
into it.  
  
"Pretty nice," Joe paused, inspecting it. "Extendible blade?"  
  
"Yeah, its about thirty-six inches all together and sharp as hell. I   
damned near cut my hand off opening it, which, granted isn't as serious   
as it used to be." Kyle grinned, "hands grow back, right?" He asked   
Methos.  
  
"Sometimes, depends on the individual." Methos replied simply.  
  
"Oh," Kyle said under his breath, flexing his hand.  
  
"So you know how to use that?" Methos asked, nodding his head at the   
weapon in Kyle's hand.  
  
"I guess, but like I said, its been a while since I've practiced sword   
play. I could probably use a refresher course." Kyle shrugged.  
  
"Its a little late for that tonight, I'll call Richie and get him to   
meet us here tomorrow." Joe said, pulling himself to his feet and   
moving towards the phone.   
  
Methos nodded and stood up, pulling his coat on he started for the   
door. "You coming?" He asked Kyle over his shoulder.  
  
Kyle looked up and smiled at Methos. "Thought you'd never ask, Pops."  
  
"Fine, fine, just stop calling me Pops." Methos growled.  
  
"Well, your grumpy enough to be three or four thousand." Kyle joked.  
  
Joe watched in amusement as the pair filed towards the exit,   
'they either get along great, or they're going to kill each other.' He   
thought with a smile.  
  
"Do you want to walk?" Methos asked finely.  
  
"I'll be good." Kyle answered soberly.  
  
"Kids, bah!" Methos said sourly.  
  
"Old people, Bah." Kyle remarked thoughtfully, then to Joe, "thanks   
Joe, see you tomorrow."  
  
"Night guys. Adam, don't do anything I wouldn't do." Joe said with a   
grin and a wave.  
  
Methos turned and nodded, he was trying to frown but Joe could tell he   
*was* enjoying himself. 'But I'm not going to say it first.'  
  
  
  
Joe rose early the next day, after a shower and a quick breakfast   
he arrived at his bar. Richie had agreed to be there at nine so they   
could talk. Neither he nor Richie assumed they'd see Methos anytime   
before noon so the morning gave them both an opportunity to get what   
they need to get done done. Checking his watch Joe guessed he had about   
three hours to wait before Methos and Kyle arrived so he put on some   
coffee and sat down to do some paperwork he'd been avoiding.  
  
"Morning Joe. Coffee." Richie's sleepy voice echoed off the walls of   
the closed and empty bar.  
  
"On the bar, I'll be with you in a second, just let me finish this."   
Joe motioned to the steaming pot.  
  
Richie poured himself a mug and sat on a stool at the bar, waiting   
quietly and thinking about last night's conversation with his new   
girlfriend. 'How could I possibly explain that I would spend my life   
with her but I'll probably live to be four hundred and she won't?'   
  
"Something on your mind, Rich?" Joe asked, 'ten to one says its about a   
woman,' he thought happily, 'good for him, he's spending too much time   
alone.'  
  
"Um yeah," Richie stammered, unsure where to begin. "Well, I don't know   
if you'll really understand, no offense though." Joe nodded in   
understanding.  
  
"I assume we're talking about an Immortal problem then, right?" The   
Watcher asked.  
  
"Um, yeah, sort of." Richie scratched at the back of his head.  
  
"Hey, don't worry about it, you'd probably be better off asking MacLeod   
or even Methos." Joe shrugged it off.  
  
Twisting towards the door suddenly, Richie knocked his mug off the bar   
and very nearly fell sideways off his stool.  
  
"Uh, Joe? What time is it?"  
  
Joe looked from the door to Richie and back to the door before checking   
his watch.  
  
"Its just after nine, somebody coming? Its too early to be Methos yet."  
  
"Maybe that Nathan guy?" Richie asked, standing and drawing his rapier   
just in case.  
  
The doors swing open and Kyle stepped through into the bar, Methos   
sauntering in behind. Joe blinked in surprise at seeing the old man   
actually awake before noon. Methos looked almost normal, except that he   
eyes were wide open and he was shaking slightly. Kyle stopped when he   
saw Richie wielding a sword.  
  
"Don't tell me, you found out you get a better shave with that than a   
Bic, right?" Kyle asked with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.  
  
Richie grinned and hid the blade back in his jean jacket.  
  
"And also, you said that whole Immortal sense thing would get less   
annoying." Kyle demanded Methos.  
  
Methos grinned and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.  
  
"I said it *generally* does, there's a difference."  
  
"I don't think I've ever seen you moving around this early, old man."   
Joe said with a surprised grin.  
  
"Kyle introduced me to something called, um." Methos paused, looking at   
Kyle for the answer.  
  
"Jolt Cola." Kyle supplied, "tastes like Coke but has enough caffeine   
to kill a small horse."  
  
Joe raised an eyebrow and studied Methos, "that would explain the   
shaking."  
  
Methos gave Joe an unamused glance, "I am not shaking."  
  
"Yeah, he's obviously just excited. What were you excited about? I've   
forgotten." Kyle grinned.  
  
"I'm excited about the prospect of throwing you around the dojo, if you   
must know." Methos told Kyle, straight-faced.  
  
"Oh, I could have guessed that." Kyle grinned at Methos, who also had a   
grin spreading across his own face.  
  
"Did you two spend the night bonding or something?" Richie asked with   
just a touch of jealousy in his voice.  
  
Kyle and Methos shook their heads in unison.  
  
"You kidding? The whole night he kept threatening to make me sleep   
outside." Kyle laughed.  
  
"That's because you wouldn't shut up and I need my beauty sleep."   
Methos replied.  
  
"Yeah whatever buddy, if you're still this ugly after five thousand   
years you may as well give up." Kyle laughed.  
  
Methos looked at Kyle with a half-grin on his face, eyebrows raised   
slightly.  
  
"Well, I'm not the one who wears Charlie Brown pajamas."  
  
Kyle's eyes opened wide, an expression of hurt shock on his face.  
  
"That was a blanket the orphanage found me wrapped in, thank you very   
much." Kyle snapped back.  
  
"And while I'm sure it was cute then..." Methos trailed off, grinning   
like the devil.  
  
"Oh your such a bitch, Methos!" Kyle exclaimed. "And I love that about   
you." He finished with a grin.  
  
Both men fell into laughter, clapping one another on the back like old   
friends. Joe and Richie cast sidelong glances at each other, neither   
had seen Methos act so friendly before. He had obviously been pretty   
open about his identity, Joe wondered how much Methos had told Kyle.  
  
'This is getting more and more interesting by the minute,' Joe thought,   
shaking his head in wonderment.  
  
"All right, let's get down to business. Who is this Nathan Mallory guy?   
Methos said he's coming after me but didn't tell me why." Kyle asked,   
his grin fading as he turned to more serious matters.  
  
"He's a fighter and very little else, he's around 800 years old or so."   
Joe began. "I talked to some friends and they confirmed that he's   
headhunting Thailus' students." He finished, speaking to Methos.  
  
"If that's the case why isn't Thailus here? I would have thought he'd   
have killed Nathan by now." Kyle said, confused.  
  
"We're, um, not sure." Joe said upon seeing the warning look in Methos'   
eyes. 'I guess he skipped telling Kyle that part.'  
  
"Well, guess its best to assume he won't be coming to save the day.   
Let's get going then, I probably don't have allot of time to prepare."   
Kyle said, mostly to himself.  
  
  
  
On the drive over to the dojo Kyle looked over at the silent Joe.  
  
"Why do I get the feeling that you weren't supposed to tell me any of   
that?" Kyle asked.  
  
"Any of what?" Joe replied, confused about exactly *what* Kyle was   
talking about and not wanting to give anything away just yet.  
  
"The stuff about Mallory, I thought you said your not supposed to   
interfere." Kyle paused, "but I'm not turning down helpful   
information."  
  
"I'm not much of a believer in the non-interference clause-" Joe began   
but was interrupted by a laugh from Methos. "You done?" Joe asked in   
annoyance. "Good, keep driving. Anyway, I figure that if I don't help   
out in my own little way then I run the risk of an scrupless Immortal   
taking the Prize."  
  
"Scrupless?" Kyle asked.  
  
"Yeah, like Methos." Joe laughed.  
  
Kyle smiled and nodded his head thoughtfully. "That *would* be pretty   
horrible, there'd be no more mornings and the oceans would be filled   
with beer." He laughed.  
  
"You say that like its a bad thing." Methos replied, eyeing Kyle in the   
rear-view mirror.  
  
"I wonder what it would be like, to have the Prize." Richie asked, his   
voice full of wonder.  
  
Methos glanced at Richie but stayed silent.  
  
"Lonely. I would think." Kyle answered simply.  
  
The rest of the trip was made in relative silence with only   
intermittent breaks as Methos softly hummed a song only he knew.  
  
  
  
When they arrived at the dojo Richie took Kyle to the changeroom   
which gave Methos a chance to talk to Joe privately in the small office   
just off the main floor.  
  
"He doesn't have to fight you know, he could just leave town." Methos   
said, standing at the window and squinting at the morning sun.  
  
"But running isn't an answer, are you going to fight Mallory for him?"  
  
"I didn't say that, Joe." Methos replied calmly, turning to face his   
friend. 'Besides,' he thought to himself, 'MacLeod won't be away   
forever.'  
  
"Of course not, you'll convince MacLeod to go after Mallory for you."   
Joe said angrily. 'Why is running always his first answer?'  
  
They were interrupted by Kyle knocking at the door to the office.   
Grinning sheepishly and positively swimming in one of MacLeod's   
oversized sweatshirts.  
  
"The first one that laughs gets a boot to the head, clear?" He said   
sternly.  
  
Joe and Methos exchanged amused glances but neither laughed or said   
anything.  
  
They all heard the elevator descend from the apartment upstairs.   
  
"I brought some water for-" Richie began, stepping out of the elevator.   
"Oh hell, that's funny. I should have looked for something smaller for   
you." Richie laughed when he saw Kyle standing with his hands on his   
hips glaring at him.  
  
"All right tough-stuff, come here." Kyle grinned and started towards   
Richie.  
  
"Huh what are you- Ow! Hey, that's cold!" Richie yelled.  
  
Methos and Joe looked around the doorjam and saw Kyle pinning Richie   
down with his knee and pouring bottled water over the grounded   
Immortal's head.  
  
"Mmmm, isn't that refreshing?" Kyle asked with a laugh and Richie   
struggled helplessly under him.  
  
"Yes, I'm refreshed, thanks." Richie sputtered, "get off me now."  
  
Kyle released his grip and started to stand but Richie swung his leg   
out and knocked Kyle onto his back. Pulling himself to his feet, Richie   
shook his head, sending water droplets in every direction.  
  
"When MacLeod gets back he's gonna kill you two for destroying his   
place." Joe laughed, seating himself on a benchpress table.  
  
"Your probably right, Joe." Richie nodded. Then, to Kyle, "loser cleans   
the dojo, deal?"  
  
"Its your dishpan hands, buddy." Kyle laughed, cracking his knuckles.  
  
  
  
The two moved to the center of the sparing mat and bowed once to each   
other before lowering into combat posture. Richie immediately launched   
into movement, bouncing around the mat and sending cautious jabs and   
kicks at Kyle. Blocking the shots with ease Kyle appeared to relax,   
letting his eyelids flutter until they almost closed he began swaying   
back and forth, moving his arms in small circles he was able to block   
each punch Richie threw.  
  
"He's good." Joe whispered, looking at Methos, who was sitting on the   
floor leaning against the wall.  
  
"Yep." Methos replied, his attention focused on the fight in progress.  
  
Richie increased his pace and managed to get a kick to connect against   
Kyle's ribs.  
  
"Don't forget to sweep the corners too." Richie laughed.  
  
Kyle raised an eyebrow in amusement and changed his stance. Turning to   
a 45 degree angle from Richie and holding his hands chest level towards   
Richie, palms forward.  
  
Methos recognized the form as some kind of Kai Chi Bo, a very old and   
powerful style. 'Richie is going to be *very* sore tomorrow.'  
  
Richie feigned a punch and Kyle brought up an arm to block at which   
point Richie reversed his motion and brought his foot up in a perfectly   
executed hammer kick, or rather it would have been perfect had his   
target still been there. Richie's foot connected with the mat with an   
impressive slapping noise. Momentarily stunned, Richie could only stare   
at the place Kyle *should* have been.  
  
"Wow," Kyle said from behind Richie. "That would have hurt, I'm glad I   
moved."  
  
Richie spun at the sound and tried to backhand Kyle but his arm was   
caught midswing. Twisting it sharply, Kyle forced Richie to double over   
while Kyle bent opposite at the waist and swung his leg out behind him   
over his back, connecting solidly with Richie's face as he was forced   
forward. The sharp crack of bone mingled with Richie's cry of pain   
before he collapsed in a heap at Kyle's feet.  
  
Kyle knelt and felt Richie's neck, an expression of concern on his   
face. Then smiling, Kyle stood and bowed gracefully to the clapping   
Methos and Joe.  
  
"Very nice." Methos commented, throwing Kyle a bottle of water.  
  
"Thanks, he's fine. I think I broke his nose though," Kyle said,   
looking over his shoulder at Richie's motionless form.  
  
"Nothing permanent, he'll live." Methos shrugged. "Help me drag his   
sorry butt off the mat."  
  
Methos and Kyle half-carried. half-dragged Richie over to the wall.  
  
"Okay kid, time for lesson two." Methos said, pulling his sword from   
his coat and holding it two-handed in readiness.  
  
"Look Methos, I don't feel comfortable with this part." Kyle said   
calmly, backing up as Methos advanced. "I mean, it was different   
fighting Richie 'cus there was really no way I could kill him for good,   
but armed? If either of us screws up, the other is dead, for good."  
  
"Then don't screw up." Methos grunted, jabbing directly at Kyle's   
heart.  
  
Slapping the blade aside with the palm of his hand Kyle stepped into   
Methos, shoving him backward.  
  
"Just wait a second." Kyle said. A little less calmly this time, Joe   
noticed.  
  
"For what? For Thailus? Sorry kid, Nathan kill him just like he's going   
to kill you if you don't wake up and fight back." Methos yelled,   
swinging lightly at Kyle.  
  
"Your lying." Kyle spoke softly through clenched teeth.  
  
"Kyle, he's telling the truth for once, I'm sorry." Joe said from his   
seat.  
  
Kyle stopped backing up and just stood looking at the floor. Methos had   
to pull back a swing that would have cleaved Kyle in two.  
  
Kyle stood motionless, only shaking slightly, for a full minute.  
  
"Look, Kyle, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you that. Thailus was a   
good man." Methos said kindly.  
  
Kyle looked up, his face a mast of neutrality. The only expression came   
from his eyes, which fixed on Methos with a steely intensity.  
  
"Whatever. Let's get this over with so I can go kill Nathan Mallory."   
Kyle said, so softly it made Methos squirm a little.  
  
"Um Kyle, please keep in mind that I'm only the messenger and not the   
killer." Methos said calmly, if not a little too quickly.  
  
"You sound worried, Pops." Kyle said with an amused tone though his   
eyes still held their ferocity.  
  
The tension in Methos' face melted away at Kyle's tone but the eldest   
Immortal still looked deathly serious.  
  
Bringing his arm down sharply, a black rectangular object slid out of   
Kyle's sleeve and into his hand. With an expression of fierce   
determination on his face Kyle extended the blade and jumped forward   
into a tight roll, closing the distance between himself and Methos with   
lightning speed. Coming to his feet a swordslength away from Methos he   
drew his sword up in a quick vertical slash that Methos was barely able   
to block.   
  
Recovering from his surprise quickly Methos countered with his own   
thrust. Neither man gave the other any quarter, both pressing for an   
advantage.  
  
From his seat, Joe watched in awe as the two Immortals fought, their   
pace increasing until it was only a blur of metal. Five minutes passed,   
then ten and neither man showed any sign of tiring.   
  
'Methos is in better shape than I thought.' Thought Joe.  
  
"Ow, geeze that hurt - Holy Crap!" Richie's moan turned to an   
exclamation when he awoke to see Methos and Kyle fighting.  
  
"Hey, shut up. Trying to concentrate over here." Kyle panted between   
thrusts.  
  
Richie stood shakily and sat beside Joe.  
  
"How long have they been going at it?" Richie whispered.  
  
"About ten minutes." Joe whispered back, "who's winning anyway?"  
  
After watching for a moment Richie could only shrug his answer. 'Its   
like watching water,' he thought in amazement. 'I've never seen Mac   
fight this hard.'  
  
Five more minutes past before the fight took a turn, Methos got a light   
swing through Kyle's defenses and a deep crimson stain appeared along   
his left thigh. An instant later Methos was hit, blood staining his   
sweater, yet neither man would go down.  
  
"Looks like its going to come down to who can heal faster." Richie   
whispered.   
  
"And I know it ain't gonna be Kyle." Joe said under his breath  
  
Kyle's strangled cry filled the dojo as Methos buried his blade deep   
into Kyle's chest.  
  
"Not bad, for a kid." Methos panted, clearly considering the fight   
over.  
  
"Not bad my ass, Pops." Kyle said between bloody coughs.  
  
Grabbing the hilt of Methos' sword Kyle rolled backward, thrusting his   
own blade into Methos' chest. The tip of Methos' blade embedded itself   
into the hardwood floor as Kyle rolled onto his back. Methos was pulled   
along and found himself laying weakly on top of Kyle and skewered up to   
the hilt on Kyle's blade  
  
"Bloody hell." Methos complained, then died.  
  
"Hey," Kyle called weakly. "I beat the old guy."  
  
Then he too died, leaving Joe and Richie to stare unbelievingly at the   
sight of two dead me covered in each other's blood, lying in a heap on   
the floor. Methos' sword bending back and forth slowly above Kyle's   
prone body.  
  
"That's what I love about the Watcher business," Joe muttered   
sarcastically. "Its all smiles and chuckles."  
  
"I'll go get a mop." Richie said.  
  
  
  
Methos awoke fifteen minutes later with a jerk and a light moan.  
  
"Its about time, I was getting bored." Joe grinned, holding a bottle of   
beer out.  
  
Methos groaned and stretched, looking around he found himself laying   
Duncan's sofa in the upstairs apartment. Dried blood clung to his   
tattered clothing and he had a nasty taste in his mouth.  
  
"Damn kid, I liked this sweater." Methos grumbled while opening the   
beer. "Where'd you throw him anyway?"  
  
"He's behind you on the bed, he's not healing as fast as you."  
  
Methos pulled himself to his feet and moved to stand beside the bed on   
which the devilish form of Kyle lay. 'At least he looks as bad as me,'   
Methos thought with a satisfied grin.  
  
"He's only a newborn, Joe. Don't expect too much." Methos shrugged.  
  
"After *that* fight? There isn't much more I could expect." Joe said.   
"Do you think he's good enough?"  
  
Methos shrugged.  
  
"Listen, I've wanted to ask you something since Kyle became Immortal."   
Joe trailed off, unsure whether or not to continue.  
  
"Are you going to ask or just sit there?" Methos asked plainly, looking   
over at his friend.  
  
"Is it just me, or is Kyle acting, well, different since he died?"  
  
"It happens." Methos responded simply but seeing the concerned look on   
his friend's face he continued. "Its the shock of the whole thing. Just   
think about it Joe, imagine what it feels like to no longer fear death   
or sickness. Death is a *big* inhibitor, but I don't see any cause for   
concern. Kyle was basically raised by Thailus, he's a good kid. He   
knows what he needs to do."  
  
"Even if it means facing Mallory?" Joe asked.  
  
"Yeah Joe, even if it means facing Mallory."  
  
  
  
Two hours later Joe and Richie were sitting around Duncan's   
living room table playing poker and waiting for Kyle to wake. Methos   
had showered and changed and was currently sitting in the corner   
cleaning his blade.  
  
A groan from the bed signaled Kyle's return to the land of the living.  
  
"Well , took you long enough. You'd think you've never been dead   
before.." Methos joked, standing and moving to sit on the end of the   
bed.  
  
"Your a funny guy. So tell me O wise one. Does dying get any easier?"   
Kyle asked, rubbing his eyes as though waking from a deep sleep.  
  
"Depends on the individual." Methos shrugged.  
  
"Yeah well, if nobody minds I think I'll just avoid dying from now on,   
thanks." Kyle groaned, sitting up on the bed and staggering to his   
feet. "And what's with this nasty taste in my mouth?" He asked,   
smacking his lips loudly.  
  
"After-taste of death." Methos shrugged.  
  
"You want something to drink?" Joe asked helpfully.  
  
"Beer please, if there's one handy." Kyle answered without hesitation.   
Then, turning to Methos he asked, "does this after-taste thing happen   
every time?"  
  
"Depends on the individual." Methos grinned.  
  
"Yeah, figured you'd say that. Mind if I grab a shower? I'm feeling   
icky."  
  
"Me casa, est sou casa," Methos shrugged, returning to his sword   
cleaning.  
  
"Well thanks but this casa ain't sou casa." Kyle grinned.  
  
"Don't worry about it, Mac won't mind, I threw your bag beside the bed.   
There are fresh towels in the linen closet on the left." Richie said   
through a mouthful of sandwich.  
  
Nodding, Kyle grabbed his duffelbag and stepped into the bathroom,   
closing and locking the door behind him.  
  
Once Kyle was gone Joe turned to Methos with a curious expression   
on his face.  
  
"After-taste of death?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. "You haven't   
mentioned that before."  
  
"Do *you* talk about your morning breath?" Methos asked with an amused   
expression.  
  
Joe turned to Richie and asked, "what about you? Do you get that?"  
  
"Morning breath?" Richie grinned, "I've never gotten any complaints."  
  
Throwing up his hands, Joe sank deeper into his chair, sighing loudly.   
'Damn secretive bastards.'  
  
With a laugh Methos pulled the soiled sheets from the bed and stuffed   
them in the laundry basket, humming softly to himself.  
  
  
  
When he stepped out of the bathroom Kyle was immaculately dressed   
in a black sweatshirt and black jeans, his hair combed back from his   
forehead.  
  
"Feel better?" Richie asked, not looking away from the TV.  
  
"Yeah, I'm a little stiff but other than that, I'll live." Kyle   
commented, dropping on to the sofa next to Methos. "So, Pops, think I'm   
ready to face Nathan?"  
  
"Maybe, as long as you don't repeat what happened downstairs. Mallory   
can probably heal faster than you and if you both die..." Methos   
trailed off and shrugged.  
  
"He'll get up first. Yeah, gotcha. Well, I won't be as easy on him as I   
was on you." Kyle said with a grin.  
  
"There's also the matter of the mortal goons he uses. They're sure to   
be a problem." Joe added from his seat in the kitchen.  
  
"Actually, I was thinking about that. I think I know a way to even the   
odds a little bit." Kyle said, "assuming my luck holds. Can I use the   
phone?"  
  
"Yeah sure, what do you have in mind?" Joe asked curiously.  
  
Kyle only shrugged as he moved to the phone, dialing a number from   
memory and talking briefly before hanging up. Returning to his seat   
Kyle grinned to himself and leaned back into the cushions.  
  
After a minute Joe couldn't stand not knowing any long. "All right,   
who'd you call?"  
  
"Geeze Joe, you'd think you were my Watcher." Kyle grinned, "who is my   
Watcher anyway? I assume I have one now right?"  
  
"Yeah, you've got one, but I can't tell you who it is." Joe said with a   
warning finger.  
  
"Okay, sorry I asked." Kyle paused, "so how am I supposed to find   
Mallory? I didn't catch his phone number the last time I saw him."  
  
"You can wait for him to find you, or you can go looking." Methos   
answered simply. "By the way, he's got short dark hair right? Around   
5'10" or so?"  
  
"Well, I didn't hang around to get a good look but yeah, that's mostly   
right. Why?"  
  
"Oh, just curious. I had a run in with him a few days ago." Methos   
shrugged, glancing over at Joe.  
  
The Immortals suddenly felt the buzz of another of their kind coming   
from downstairs.  
  
"Well, that was easy enough." Kyle joked nervously.  
  
"Its probably MacLeod, this *is* his place." Methos assured everyone,   
though eyeing his sword which lay within easy reach.  
  
"Well, let's go look." Richie said as he started towards the door.  
  
Kyle held him back with a hand on Richie's shoulder.  
  
"If it is Nathan, he's here for me. I'll go." Kyle states firmly. "But   
don't go far." He finished with a grin.  
  
Retrieving his sword from the counter, Kyle stepped into the elevator   
and descended to the dojo below.  
  
"Damnit, I can't stand not knowing what's going on." Joe exclaimed   
after a moment, pulling himself to his feet.  
  
"Joe, sit down." Methos said, moving to put a hand on the Watcher's   
shoulder.  
  
"Your going to watch?" Joe asked, completely amazed.  
  
"What are you daft? I ran the man down with my car. Richie's going to   
go."  
  
Richie looked up at Methos from his seat on the back of the couch. "I   
am?"  
  
"Of course, don't you want to watch?" Methos replied, turning to face   
Richie.  
  
"Yeah, I guess so." Richie mumbled as he reached for his sword.  
  
  
  
Having moved down the stairs as quietly as he could Richie was   
certain he was undetected so it came as a surprise when he poked his   
head through the doorway to see Kyle and shorter dark haired man   
looking directly at him. Quickly, Richie pulled himself out of sight   
and stood flat against the wall swearing softly to himself.  
  
"Charming friends." He heard the other man say.  
  
"Whatever. Get to the point so I can bury my point into you." Kyle said   
so softly that Richie had to strain to hear him.  
  
"Now now, if you so much as blink funny my friends here will put so   
much lead into you you'll set off metal detectors. I'm here to set up a   
time, not to kill you just yet."   
  
"You're senile. Tell me where and when." Kyle replied coldly.  
  
Whatever the other man said to Kyle escaped Richie's hearing but he   
assumed it was an address.   
  
"Fine, now leave before I spread you all over the floor." Kyle replied   
sharply.   
  
Richie could hear the laughter of the other man as it grew quieter   
until it was gone.  
  
"He's gone, you can unhide yourself now, Richie." Kyle called   
humorlessly.  
  
"You heard me huh?" Richie asked, stepping through the doorway.  
  
"Oh just barely." Kyle replied sarcastically.  
  
"So what did he say?" Richie asked.  
  
Kyle shrugged slightly and headed for the elevator with Richie   
following closely behind.  
  
  
  
When they stepped out of the elevator Kyle headed directly to the   
fridge, pulling himself out a fresh beer and taking a mighty drink.  
  
"When does it happen?" Methos asked, 'no point in humoring the lad.'  
  
"Tonight at some warehouse outside town." Kyle shrugged. "Do these   
always happen in rundown warehouses?"  
  
"Naw, I fought in a closed mall once." Richie grinned.  
  
"What time?" Joe asked.  
  
"Mallory said 7pm but I think I'll be fashionably late." Kyle said with   
a devious smile.  
  
"Throw him off balance, very clever, kid." Methos replied, sitting up   
on the sofa.  
  
"I learned from the best." Kyle said with pride.  
  
Joe wasn't certain if Kyle was referring to Thailus or Methos,   
'probably Thailus. If it was Methos Kyle is emulating, he'd have   
already skipped town.'  
  
"So what's the plan?" Richie asked, eager to help out.  
  
"Well," Kyle began, "I figured that you, Methos and Joe would go to the   
bar and drink while I go cut Nathan's head off with a spoon."  
  
"Sounds good to me," Methos said evenly as he stood and pulled his coat   
on. "Do you want a ride somewhere, Kyle?"  
  
"Naw, you can take my bag back to your place though, just give me a   
second to change into something more battle worthy." Kyle turned on his   
heel and stepped back into the bathroom.  
  
"He's really taking this well." Richie said in wonder.  
  
"Looks like it," Methos replied simply.  
  
The three men turned at the sound of the door opening and Kyle   
stepped out. Dressed in Black from head to toe, the only color on his   
person was a bright red slash running diagonally across his tight black   
shirt. Kyle wore a pair of black jeans and black heavy hiking boots.   
Stepping fully into the room Kyle pulled on his long black trenchcoat   
and seeing the surprised look on the faces of his friends he paused and   
grinned.  
  
"Old work uniform, its a little wrinkled but no worse for wear."  
  
"Very impressive." Methos nodded.  
  
"Cool, you look like 'The Crow.'" Richie said enthusiastically.  
  
"Work uniform?" Joe asked.  
  
"Professional fighter," Kyle shrugged. "It paid the bills for a while."  
  
"You've got everything you need out of here?" Methos asked, hefting   
Kyle's dufflebag.   
  
Kyle nodded and picked his sword off the counter and tucked it into his   
coat. Methos nodded back and threw the bag to Richie.  
  
"I'm driving, your carring."  
  
"What am I?" Richie demanded, "a slave?"  
  
"Of course not now come along, Pedro." Methos laughed.  
  
Joe joined Methos in laughter as they stepped into the elevator with a   
silent and dejected Richie following behind them.  
  
"Lock up when you leave," Joe said, uncomfortable and not sure what   
else to say. "And good luck."  
  
The two other Immortals both smiled and nodded at what Joe had said.  
  
"Come to the bar when its over." Methos added.  
  
"I will, don't worry about it. You haven't seen the last of me." Kyle   
said kindly.   
  
The elevator began its descent and Kyle held contact with Methos until   
he was out of sight, reading the hidden concern on the eldest   
Immortal's face.  
  
"Interesting, the oldest man alive actually gives a damn about the   
youngest, or newest or whatever I am." Kyle said to himself, flopping   
down on the sofa after grabbing his half-finished beer off the counter.   
Checking his watch Kyle found he had a little over five hours to wait   
before he was to face Mallory.  
  
With a sigh he pulled himself off the sofa and moved to the phone,   
punching in the same number as before.  
  
"Its Kyle." He said when his call was answered, "yeah I do need them.   
Oh, I don't know, probably four or five. Cash is good. Okay, thanks   
again, fingers." Kyle continued, giving the address of the warehouse   
before hanging up.  
  
With a satisfied smile on his face, Kyle laid down on the sofa and   
turned on the TV, waiting patiently for the right time.  
  
  
  
The bar was packed with loose groups of laughing people, a small   
time blues band that Joe had booked was playing softly on the stage in   
the corner. Joe sat stiffly at the end of the bar intently watching his   
cell phone which lay in front of him. Richie Ryan pushed his way   
aimlessly through the crown until he spotted Joe, then made a beeline   
straight to him.  
  
"Any word yet?" Richie asked softly as he stood beside the Watcher.  
  
"Hmm?" Joe mumbled as he was pulled out of his daydream. "Oh, no   
nothing yet. When its over Kyle's Watcher promised to call me."  
  
"Well, its not even eight yet. He's gonna win right?" Richie asked,   
checking his watch.  
  
"Don't know, Kyle *is* a good fighter." Joe shrugged.  
  
Richie nodded slowly, hearing the doubt in Joe's voice. 'But Mallory   
may be better,' he thought to himself glumly.  
  
The buzz hit Richie's mind and as usual threw him into momentary   
confusion. Turning quickly Richie could make out the unobtrusive form   
of Methos sliding easily through the crowd towards them..  
  
"Evening Joe, Richie. Beer please." Methos said casually, leaning   
against the bar. Joe reached behind the counter and produced a bottle   
which he passed into Methos' waiting hand.  
  
"Where'd you run off to?" Joe asked.  
  
Methos and Joe had been sitting at the bar an hour ago when Methos had   
suddenly gotten up and wandered out with no explanation or good-bye.  
  
"Had some movies to return." Methos shrugged.  
  
Without a word he turned and walked over to his usual booth in the   
corner, probably a book from his coat he sank into the padded seat and   
after a quick and cautious look around the bar he opened the ragged   
book and began reading, oblivious to the noise around him.  
  
After a few minutes of watching Joe tap his fingers absently on the bar   
while watching his quest cell phone Richie could stand it no longer.   
Slapping his hands on the bar in frustration he stood up and pulled on   
his coat.  
  
"Sorry Joe, I can't just sit here when my friend may be getting himself   
killed, I've gotta do something." Richie growled in frustration.  
  
"Look Richie, you know you can't interfere. Kyle knows what he has to   
do and how to do it." Joe said softly. "But your right, why don't you   
go see your girlfriend or something? Leave the waiting for us old   
folks."  
  
"Yeah I guess." Richie nodded slowly, cooling off. Joe was right and he   
knew it. That was one of the first rules that MacLeod had drilled into   
him when he was 'new.' No interfering once the fight had begun. It was   
still hard to justify sitting around while his friend was probably   
fighting for his life.  
  
"Your right Joe, I'm gonna go for a ride." Richie said calmly. "I'll be   
back in an hour or so."  
  
Joe nodded, not taking his worried eyes off the phone.  
  
Clapping Joe lightly on the shoulder Richie turned and headed out the   
door.  
  
Methos watched Richie leave out of the corner of his eye and idly   
wondered if he was going to see how Kyle was fairing up. He wasn't   
worried per say, more curious. Besides, Richie didn't actually know   
where they're fighting anyway, Methos guessed. he was confident Joe   
hadn't disclosed the address because they both knew that Richie's   
loyalty would demand no less than sacrificing himself for his friend.   
  
'The impatience of youth.' Methos though grimly. 'He'd have a better   
shot at the Prize if he could dump all that chivalry and honor drivel   
that MacLeod had taught him.'  
  
Relaxing deeper into the softly padded seat Methos turned his mind back   
to the book that Kyle had recommended. it was titled 1984 and even   
though he was only just beginning the second chapter Methos was hooked.   
He usually avoided science fiction whenever possible, when you've seen   
millennia pass you realize how quickly science fiction becomes reality   
and thus far the book was scaring the hell out of him.  
  
By nine o'clock Methos was starting to get antsy. Over at the bar   
Joe was talking angrily in hushed tones to someone on the phone.   
Pulling himself up Methos stretched sleepily and ambled through the   
crowd toward his friend.  
  
"-Whatever your reason is," Joe was saying, "its at 6335 Bay Avenue.   
Who cares how I know, I just know. Yeah, that would be good. Call when   
you get there, I need to know what happened." Joe punched the end call   
button and slammed the phone down.  
  
"Let me guess, the service lost your dry-cleaning." Methos said while   
signaling the bartender for two beer.  
  
"Kyle *an* Mallory managed to lose their Watchers before the fight."   
Joe growled. "Neither wanted to call because they knew I'd be upset,   
they spend the last hour searching around for them."  
  
Methos grinned and opened the beer, offering one to Joe. Accepting the   
beer gratefully Joe took a drink. Running his free hand through his   
short hair, Joe looked as though he had aged ten years in the last two   
hours.  
  
"You worry to much. If Kyle wins, then he wins, if he doesn't then he   
doesn't. Either way there's nothing we can do about it but wait."   
Methos said simply, trying to calm his friend down.  
  
Joe was about to answer but his cell phone came to life with an   
electronic chirp. Snatching it up and almost knocking his beer over in   
the process, Joe flipped it open and put it to his ear.  
  
"Dawson. Yeah? Big one? I could really use an ID. Yeah, I'll wait." Joe   
cupped the phone in his hand and turned to Methos. "There's evidence of   
a big Quickening. They're checking to see who lost."  
  
Methos nodded and leaned forward on his elbows.  
  
"What?" Joe asked, putting the phone back to his ear. "You're sure?   
Okay, thanks. Tell David I want his report ASAP. Call a clean-up crew.   
Yeah, the usual, you're in charge." With a sigh of relief Joe set the   
phone down and rubbed his eyes. "Mallory's Watcher ID'd his body. Kyle   
won."  
  
Methos took a drink to hide the relief he felt. "I didn't doubt it for   
a minute."  
  
"Don't hand me that crap, you were as worried as I was and you know   
it." Joe said, cracking a grin.  
  
"Maybe so, Joe. Maybe so." Methos admitted, looking over at the door a   
moment before Kyle walked in. "Speak of the devil."  
  
Motioning towards a booth, Kyle picked his way through the crowd,   
holding his trenchcoat closed with one hand.  
  
"So tell me, wise one. Are *those* always going to feel like that?"   
Kyle asked with a tired grin as Methos and Joe joined him at the table.  
  
"Depends on the individual." Methos joked, handing Kyle a fresh beer.  
  
"Does he ever say anything helpful?" Kyle asked Joe, leaning forward   
and jerking a thumb at Methos.  
  
Joe looked over at Methos with a grin and appeared to think it over.  
  
"Not that I remember, no." Joe shrugged.  
  
The three men shared a comfortable silence for a moment, listening to   
the soft jazz the band had switched to.  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?" Joe asked softly.  
  
"Not much to talk about." Kyle said simply, looking up from his beer.   
"It was messy, painful, and no one thought to fill me in on the whole   
Quickening thing. *That* was certainly something, let me tell you."  
  
"Great," Joe mumbled. "Another Methos. Is anyone going to tell me   
anything?"  
  
"How did you deal with the gunmen?" Methos asked, ignoring Joe's   
sarcasm.  
  
"I brought my own." Kyle said with a shrug,   
  
"Hadn't thought of that." Methos grinned.  
  
"I like to be original." Kyle grinned back. "Speaking of which, the   
price of originality isn't cheap. Could I borrow some money? I have to   
pay for their services."  
  
"Nice." Methos laughed.  
  
Looking up from his drink suddenly Kyle glanced first at the door and   
then at Methos who hadn't moved.  
  
"You *do* feel that too, right Pops." Kyle asked quietly.  
  
Methos looked at Kyle with a confused expression.  
  
"Feel what?" He started, "oh that. Yeah, I do now." Methos finished   
with a quick glance at the door.  
  
"We all have different ranges?" Kyle asked, not taking his eyes off the   
door.  
  
"Sometimes." Methos shrugged.  
  
"Oh. Well. This one is yours. I got the last one." Kyle said with a   
nervous grin.  
  
Both Immortals relaxed when Richie came through the door holding hands   
with a striking blonde woman. His already big smile got bigger when he   
saw Kyle sitting with Methos and Joe.  
  
"Evening guys. I'd like you to meet Sarah. Sarah, this is Joe Dawson   
and, uh." Richie paused his introductions and raised an eyebrow at   
Methos and Kyle.  
  
"Adam Pierson." Methos took the lead, nodding politely at Sarah.  
  
"Kyle Pierson." Kyle smiled a sweet smile and nodded his head softly.  
  
"Your brothers?" Sarah asked, seeing little resemblance between the   
two.  
  
Ignoring the surprised look on everyone's face Kyle continued. "Cousins   
actually. My mother is his aunt."  
  
"Yeah, Kyle's in town on vacation." Methos recovered smoothly, giving   
Kyle a queer 'you'll pay for this later' look out of the corner of his   
eye.  
  
"That's nice, how long are you in town for?" Sarah asked, sitting in   
the chair Richie offered her.  
  
"I guess until Adam throws me out." Kyle joked.  
  
"So we'll be seeing more of you?" Richie hasn't hardly said anything   
about you, either of you actually." Sarah said sweetly, staring   
directly at Kyle with twinkling blue eyes.  
  
"Um, I guess you will. If Richie lets you hang around with his drunken   
friends." Kyle laughed.  
  
"We'll see how tonight goes." Richie said with a grin.  
  
Leaning towards Kyle, Methos whispered, "Kyle Pierson?"  
  
"I couldn't think of anything." Kyle whispered back. "You don't mind do   
you? Cousin?"  
  
Methos grinned and straightened up in his seat.  
  
The five spend the remainder of the evening talking and drinking   
and by two in the morning only Methos and Sarah were still drinking,   
everyone else having fallen prey to exhaustion, or in Richie's case,   
nausea.  
  
Kyle lay stretched out on the seats of another booth singing softly to   
himself and Joe had fallen asleep in his chair.  
  
"We should probably get them home." Sarah slurred dejectedly.  
  
"Probably should." Methos grinned after looking at the fallen bodies.  
  
"Where's my man?" Sarah asked, looking around.  
  
"Last time I saw him he was passed out in the bathroom." Methos   
laughed.  
  
"He's a great guy but he can't handle his booze." Sarah joked.  
  
"I'll get him," Methos said as he struggled to his feet. "Kyle, hey   
Kyle. We've gotta go get Richie." He kicked at Kyle's outstretched   
feet.  
  
"Fine, fine." Kyle groaned as he stood on shaky legs, rubbing his eyes   
with the backs of his hands. "But if he's comfortable I'm all for   
leaving him alone."  
  
"Sarah won't be too impressed with that idea." Methos said over his   
shoulder as he started for the bathroom.   
  
Kyle tried to shake the cobwebs out of his head but only succeeded in   
making himself dizzy as he followed Methos. They emerged a few moments   
later dragging a barely conscious Richie behind them.  
  
"Lemme alone," Richie said groggily. "Wanna go sleep now."  
  
"Not doing so well, are you?" Kyle grinned down at Richie.  
  
"I think he overdid it a bit." Methos grinned.  
  
"Well 'scuse me," Richie slurred. "Maybe I don't get s'much practice as   
you do, Adam."  
  
Glaring down at his drunken friend for a moment, Methos stopped and   
looked up at Kyle. With a wink Methos signaled Kyle and they both let   
go of their friend.  
  
"Oops." They said in unison as Richie fell to the ground with a thump.  
  
"Ow," Richie yelled. "I think you broke m'nose."  
  
"Like you can even feel your nose anymore." Methos grinned.  
  
"I'll call a couple of cabs." Kyle said, moving off to the phone.  
  
"I'm fine to drive," Sarah said while trying to stand but after a   
moment of staggering she fell back into her seat.  
  
Kyle stopped and looked at her for a moment with a raised eyebrow.   
"Yeah, whatever." He shook his head, picking up the phone.  
  
"I really am." Sarah repeated, not even trying to stand. "I swear."  
  
"Whatever you say, dear." Methos said sarcastically, patting her on the   
head softly.  
  
The cabs arrived and Richie and Sarah volunteered to take Joe home in   
their cab while Kyle and Methos took the other.  
  
  
  
Upon arriving at Methos' condo Kyle went to have a shower and   
change out of his torn clothing while Methos opened himself a beer and   
sat at the cluttered desk upon which an old leather bound book lay.  
  
Opening it to a blank page Methos started writing in a language long   
forgotten by the world.  
  
Kyle opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway, a great   
cloud of steam billowing out behind him.  
  
"Hey Pops, where'd you throw my bag?" Kyle called out.  
  
Methos stuck his head out of the office and saw Kyle wrapped in *his*   
towel and dripping water on the carpet.  
  
"Its in the spare room. Get off my floor and stop calling me Pops."  
  
  
  
Fifteen minutes later Kyle, now dressed in sweat pants and a   
sweatshirt, knocked on the office door.  
  
"Hey, whatcha doing?"  
  
"Writing," Methos said simply.   
  
Kyle looked over Methos' shoulder but was unable to decipher the   
writing.  
  
"Is this the Chronicle that Joe mentioned?" Kyle asked, curious.  
  
"Yeah, there's four more books laying around here somewhere." Methos   
said, frowning as he looked around the messy room.  
  
"Long life." Kyle mused, "what language is that anyway?"  
  
"Mostly Sumerian with a little bit of Egyptian hieroglyphs and ancient   
Greek. A little bit of everything." Methos replied as he flipped   
through the half filled book.  
  
"Wow. You've gotta teach me a few of those." Kyle said in wonderment.  
  
"Thailus didn't cover languages?" Methos asked, surprised.  
  
"He tried but I wasn't very good at it." Kyle replied with a shrug. "I   
didn't think I'd ever need it."  
  
Methos nodded and continued writing in silence. Kyle move to the window   
and stared up at the stars.  
  
"I have to leave. To where ever Thailus' body is." Kyle said softly,   
not turning away from the window.  
  
"Why?" Methos asked, leaning back in his chair.  
  
"Closure I guess. I need time to think. I've had a weird week, I was   
murdered, I watched someone get murdered, I killed somebody. And now I   
know that I'm never going to die unless someone cuts my head off. How   
did you feel when it happened to you?" Kyle asked, turning to Methos.  
  
"I don't remember." He shrugged, closing the leather book and turning   
to Kyle.  
  
"Don't give me that, Methos. We both know you do. You just don't want   
to think about it." Kyle said kindly. "Refresh your memory, find the   
Chronicle and read it. I'm not looking for details here, I just want to   
know that I'm not going crazy."  
  
"You're not. You've got it allot better than I did. You've got friends   
and skill and a strong mind. I was an unpopular under educated kid.   
You'll be fine." Methos sighed deeply.  
  
"Thanks," Kyle said simply. "I'm going to bed now."  
  
"I'll get you a plane ticket, when do you want to leave? Any preference   
for a name?" Methos asked, pulling out a scrap of paper and a pen.  
  
Kyle paused for a moment, thinking. "Pierson sounds good, if there are   
no objections."  
  
"None here," Methos smiled. "Cousin."  
  
"Cool, and I'd like to leave tomorrow if possible. I really don't have   
anything to hang around for." Kyle turned back to the window. "Except   
you guys."  
  
"I don't know about Richie or Joe," Methos grinned. "But *I'm* not   
going anywhere."  
  
Kyle nodded and went to get some sleep.  
  
  
  
The following morning was spent typing up the loose ends of   
Kyle's life. Methos opened a Swiss bank account under the name of Kyle   
Pierson and generously donated a large sum. Kyle's rent was paid up and   
a letter delivered to his place of employment explaining (partially)   
his absence. By 4pm the man named Kyle had essentially disappeared from   
the planet.  
  
  
  
Kyle and Methos joined Joe in the bar to go over their plans and to   
give Kyle a chance to say good-bye, fortunately the bar was near   
deserted.  
  
"Hey guys," Joe smiled as they entered.  
  
"Hey Joe," Kyle smiled back. "How's it going?"  
  
"Little sore from last night but no worse for wear. How about you two?"   
Joe asked while reaching behind the counter for Methos' usual beer.  
  
"I'm good. So Joe, um." Kyle paused to collect his thoughts, the words   
he had thought out on the drive over had left him. "I'm leaving. I've   
gotta see Thailus' grave and pay my last respects. I was hoping you   
would come with me to the airport."  
  
"Yeah," Joe nodded, resting his elbows on the counter. "I heard you   
were leaving."  
  
"Who told-" Kyle broke off and looked over at Methos who returned an   
innocent expression, "oh. I should have guessed." He finished with a   
grin.  
  
"How do you think he knew where Thailus was buried? An Immortal   
newsletter?" Joe laughed.  
  
"Good point, I figured Methos wasn't smart enough to do it on his own."   
Kyle grinned.  
  
"Now don't go starting something you can't finish, kid." Methos   
responded, ready to accept the verbal challenge Kyle presented him   
with.  
  
"What time is your flight out?" Joe asked, checking his watch.  
  
"Two hours. Where's Richie?" Kyle asked, "I wanted to say good-bye."  
  
"Probably still at Sarah's place." Methos said with a grin.  
  
"Lucky guy," Kyle added.  
  
"She is quite a looker though a little young for us, wouldn't you say,   
old man?" Joe laughed.  
  
"There aren't a lot of 5000 year old women running around, you're all   
*too* young for me." Methos laughed back.  
  
"If there were, they'd see through Methos' charms, I'm sure." Kyle   
joked, patting his Immortal friend on the back.  
  
"At least I *have* charm." Methos retorted.  
  
"Yeah, if that's what you call charm," Kyle laughed. "Hi, I'm Adam   
Pierson and I've been an undergrad for, what? Ten years now?"  
  
"This from a guy who worked in a gas station? At least *I* have a last   
name." Methos grinned, obviously entertained by this simple banter.  
  
"Yeah, and you do? Methos what?"  
  
"Fine, you want to play hardball?" Methos asked lightly, turning on the   
stool to face his friend.  
  
"Um, guys?" Joe asked, waving his hand between the two Immortals. "If   
we're going to beat traffic to the airport we should get going."  
  
"Damned grown-ups." Kyle laughed, backing down from Methos. "Always   
spoiling the fun."  
  
  
  
Kyle and Methos traded insults all the way to the airport which   
meant Joe spent most of the trip laughing until his side hurt, much the   
chagrin of his Immortal friends.  
  
"Oh crap," Kyle swore once they entered the departure terminal.  
  
"What?" Joe asked, checking Methos' reaction to see if maybe another   
Immortal was nearby.  
  
"How do I get my sword through security?"  
  
Methos grinned slightly and whispered something into Kyle's ear too   
softly for Joe to overhear.  
  
"You've gotta be kidding me." Kyle said in disbelief when Methos pulled   
away.  
  
"Nope, its a tried and true method." Methos shook his head.  
  
"That *actually* works?" Kyle asked, still unbelieving.  
  
"Since I was a kid. Never fails." Methos nodded, "trust me."  
  
"Well, its worth a shot. If it doesn't work you have to bail me out."   
Kyle said sternly before heading off to the men's room.  
  
"What'd you tell him?" Joe asked, obviously curious.  
  
"Old Immortal secret, if I told you I'd have to kill you." Methos said,   
his poker face firmly in place.  
  
Joe grinned and shook his head, letting the subject drop. He'd ask   
MacLeod about it whenever he got back.  
  
"This better be worth it, this thing is cold." Kyle said, returning   
from the men's room.  
  
  
  
The trio spent the remaining hour sitting in the airport bar   
drinking and talking about everything and nothing until Kyle's flight   
was announced over the PA system.  
  
"Well, guess this is it." Kyle said once they'd arrived at his gate.  
  
Methos pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Kyle.  
  
"This is the address of an old friend of mine, you can stay there if   
you want. Take care of yourself." Methos said.  
  
"Thanks, Pops. I'll be back someday, I just have to see this through."   
Kyle said softly, shaking hands and hugging Methos while Joe stood by   
waiting patiently for his turn.  
  
"You take care of yourself, Joe." Kyle grinned, "and keep an eye on   
Methos too."  
  
"Will do." Joe paused, "and Kyle? Don't lose your head."  
  
"I'll do my best, trust me." Kyle grinned and nodded empathetically.  
  
  
  
After a quick hug with Joe, Kyle turned and went through security   
without any problems and then he was gone. Joe and Methos watched the   
plane take off before they made their way through the busy airport with   
hardly a word between them. They were passing the arrivals gate when   
Methos felt another Immortal close by.  
  
"Hey guys! You didn't have to pick me up, I could have gotten a cab."   
Duncan MacLeod's cheery Scottish accent came as a surprise to the two   
men.  
  
"Oh, hey Mac," Joe began, trading glances with Methos. "Its no problem,   
we're glad your back from, um, your trip."  
  
"Have fun?" Methos asked.  
  
"Yeah, its great to get back there from time to time." Duncan said   
enthusiastically.  
  
"Memories and all that," Methos nodded. "I haven't been there in quite   
a while."  
  
"I thought you said you've never been there." Duncan paused, his eyes   
narrowing suspiciously at Methos.  
  
"No, I used to go there all the time." Methos said, scanning the   
arrivals board for possibilities as to where MacLeod had come from.   
'Tasmania? Naw.'  
  
"Really? Do you like the North or South parts better?" Duncan asked   
suspiciously, dropping his bag and putting his hands on his hips.  
  
Glancing over at Joe, Methos could see his friend barely containing his   
laughter.  
  
"I'm partial to the central regions, actually. Less wind." Methos   
shrugged.  
  
Duncan looked from Joe to Methos and back again, he could tell that Joe   
was on the verge of hysterics but as usual, Methos' face revealed   
nothing.  
  
"Tell me where I was." MacLeod said with challenge in his voice.  
  
"Oh please," Methos said in irritation. "You coming Joe?" He asked,   
turning away in the direction of the exit.  
  
"Right behind you." Joe nodded, following the eldest Immortal away.  
  
"Wait a minute," MacLeod called after them. "Tell me where I was!"  
  
"Oh grow up, MacLeod." Methos said over his shoulder as he and Joe   
walked out. "Grow up."  
  
MacLeod watched as his 'friends' walked away, almost turning away to   
find his own way home. After a moment's thought he pulled his bag off   
the ground and followed after them, muttering something about lying old   
men and Watchers who don't watch.  
  
  
The End. 


End file.
